Frida's Art Journal
As with most things, direction in life is a misnomer. Because when you are watching a movie, how can you be sure of the way you are going? When you read a book or watch a show, can you predict what will happen next? Or don't you just follow the route as it unfolds in front of you, page by page, scene by scene, like a child? Life has enchanted you, you see. Like an engrossing television program or novel, you can't wait to see what happens next. Are you not being entertained? You're being mesmerized. You are so engrossed in the people, their relationships, their happiness and sadness, and the sheer drama of it all that you fail to recognize that you are only the star of your own show.
You're welcome to say, "If this is not real, if life is but a stage and I am the star performer, who has written this lousy script, for I am not enjoying it as much as I would like to." It's also possible that, like me, you believe life is a nightmare and try your hardest to get out of it. Or you can be attempting to establish yourself because if you can be anything, why be nothing? However, I was more nothing in my case because, as a child, I was physically felled like a tree and deprived of its fruit. What I did not give was taken away, and I was used and dragged away in its whole.
Everyone learns in a unique way. My heart was kicked shut by a partner's infidelity, and I had to learn to open it again. Additionally, my heart was never entire and was always half, thus it wasn't a partner, but rather my other heart. I knew it wasn't whole, but I kept attempting to finish it. Oh, the pain of my unquenchable desire for love! For a lifetime, a broken heart might remain broken. I aired it for everyone to see, even though I wanted to fix it. "Come and watch me bleed," I said. The virginal canvass was smeared in my paint, which silently bled white, red, and green like a Mexican. I played the brokenhearted, and this was my script; both body and soul were broken.
And "Why has sorrow chosen me?" was the question I kept asking God and my earthly father. I knew that men are rarely chaste because I was the "other woman," but why couldn't I be contentedly married, have kids, and be consoled by a husband? I was normal; why couldn't I? Why was it that I couldn't stand, run, and walk for as long as I needed to? Why was I born a woman in a male-dominated world, despite having a strong sense of independence? I was dependent, but why? Was it necessary for me to be declared invalid? Why was my suffering persistent? Why a wheelchair, the height of indignities? And why, oh why, was I never sufficient for the one person in the world for whom I desired to be sufficient?
You have to understand that certain individuals will never find you sufficient, my friend. However, your goal is not to be what people desire. It never was and never will be. Being who and what you are is your purpose. You are the star of this show, not anyone else's opinion, therefore it doesn't matter what others say if you have the courage to be that, to just be a genuine version of yourself, and to live the life you want and dream of living.
"But what could be easier than being yourself?" you would ask. Yet you know that to be completely honest about who you are and what you want is not easy in this world of make believe because others wish to alter you. You will be pulled and shaped by them. You will be too much for some people and too little for others. It takes a lot of work to figure out what your job is and to decide to be fully yourself. You might never understand why you are experiencing this narrative or why things had to go this way. You might believe, like I do, that you had little to do with crafting your life's harsh circumstances. However, since you are present and it is taking place, someone did. This is your life's narrative. You don't have to know if you call it God or chance. It simply is. You are the only one you can control, I discovered.
The time to take back your life is now. Seize it. Don't give it away so quickly! It will yell to the world, wild and precious: I was like this! What are you, then? Who are you? Be that, then. You can be sure that you are sufficient because of this. You can suffer from a broken heart and the world might not cheer you on. However, you are sufficient in every corner of this vast universe when you be who you are, doing and being what you came to.
Then you are enough.
With Love,
Frida
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